


Midday Moon Alice

by Nagisa Umibe (Lunetta11)



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Drama, F/M, Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Paganism, Romance, Social Anxiety, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 13:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunetta11/pseuds/Nagisa%20Umibe
Summary: Embracing a book of velvet blue cover she whispered, "Alice, o Alice, why would you ever leave Wonderland?"On and on the planet spin, oh days so bland! Without magic the world goes, dull and wicked and harsh. Where goes the tea time within the sleeping forest, or is there ever any? Stepping along the ticking clock, marching on without a stop, so lost, so lost.On and on she goes, spinning 'round the falling sand, the Alice of golden locks and a dress of blue—blue as the far-off sky. Off she slips through the hole, into a world hidden; where the stars fall as rain and loneliness is but a dream.With a spoon of imagination and a pinch of curiosity, find them, find them all: Doors hidden by the butterflies, under a Midday Moon so bright.





	1. Prologue

“If we ever get separated and you want to find me, follow after the blue butterfly. It will lead you to wherever I am.”

It was the answer she gave him when he had expressed his concern regarding losing sight of her in the middle of a busy crowd. Her petite figure and tendency to zoom out, after all, made it rather difficult to spot her among the constantly moving sea of humans. Regardless, the way she worded her reply bemused him.

She was a daydreamer whose mind constantly attuned to the pace of her own world, peculiar as the Little Prince from his favorite fairytale. Inversely, her very existence felt as though she had been forcefully taken from some invisible, faraway reality that vastly differed from this one. It had piqued his curiosity—very much so—how out of place she was compared to the rest of the world, and so he would ask her sudden, unusual questions from time to time.

“What do you see when you look at the sky?”

—such was one of his inquiries, though she was already used to how whimsical and out-of-the-blue his curious moments were. Tearing her attention away from an opened book on her lap, she looked towards the sky and answered,

“I see Sky Dwellers. There's clouds and birds, or course, but there are also Dreamers.”

Her reply prompted him to turn skyward, towards the azure heights reigned by the unbearably bright sun—and found nothing sort of semblance to what she had just mentioned. As expected, the lens with which she viewed the world never fails to entertain him.

“The clouds and the birds, I get. But ‘Dreamers’?”

She, who was just about to return her focus to the book, turned to him. “You don’t see them?”

He chuckled as he reached towards her long golden locks and run his fingers between them. “I believe I’ve told you. The things you see are not visible to many. You have a very unique view of the world, Alice-chan.”

She tilted her head at his response, and he smiled at this. Ah, it was only normal for her to be confused. For her, all the fantasies, folktales, and fairytales were as real as the water that runs through the stream and as natural as the trees that grow through the forest. Such was her “reality”, as preposterous as it might seem to onlookers who could neither see nor understand the things she sees. He himself has been trying for quite some time now, attempting to gaze into this wondrous world she often spoke of—though to no avail.

But no matter. He wasn’t about to give up so easily; further, he found it rather amusing and interesting.  _ Imagine _ , he giddily thought to himself despite the lack of change in his calmly smiling visage,  _ all the things we’d find together once I’m able to see! _

Surely it will be fascinating—as fascinating as the midday moon on the day he had found her.


	2. Midday Moon Alice

_ “Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” _

The summer of July 2007 was encased by a bright, blue sky. Cicada’s song, loud and endless, filled corners of the city with such fervor that the season felt eternal. Even the restless Tokyo bowed down under the unbearably scorching sun as its residents frantically searched for ways to escape the heat. But it was in this very season that his heart soared, longing to behold the marks of summer’s embrace throughout the corners of the city. An impromptu decision, a mind filled with excitement—they were all it took for him to jump towards the street with his beloved camera in hand, and off he went looking for images to eternalize.

This was what he loved; that moment when the lens of his camera captured the contrast between the emerald green leaves against the depth of their shadows, or the singing cicadas that stayed upon trees without a care in the world, or flowers of vivid colors that blossomed against the harsh season. He didn’t so much bring with him advanced photography tools or enough nourishment to last him for the day. All he needed was his camera and his eyes, and perhaps the water bottle sitting idly in his bag that he would bring out to take a sip from whenever the heat dried his throat. Snap after snap resounded as pictures filled his camera, and he smiled at his newfound treasures.

Nevertheless, he was far from satisfied. He longed for… an unusual something. Even he himself could not quite explain what the feeling was, the gnawing feeling that has been orbiting his mind since morning, the… yearning to search. To find. What it was, he was yet to find, and so he continued, ignoring the heat as morning shifted to midday.

It was as if his mind was in a haze, or perhaps euphoria, when he found himself mindlessly wandering the corners of the city, passing gardens and beautiful houses and tired, anonymous people. For how many… for how many steps have he walked, and for how long? He has lost track. For all he knew, this summer could truly be eternal. Cicadas’ songs echoed all around, ringing, blurring the lines between reality and daydream. All he had in mind was this search, for he would not stop until his heart was satisfied.

The fluttering of a butterfly’s wings made him stop. With his breath held, his eyes followed its movement—a beautiful blue butterfly that seemed to shimmer a warm bluish glow under the sun. He was entranced.

_ This. This is… _

He moved, though his camera was oddly stationary, untouched as it hung from his neck. Was it not the perfect timing to capture this image, this… rarity? To him, who had been yearning for the unknown since the moment the dawn roused him awake, the timing has yet to arrive.  _ Not yet _ , he told himself.  _ Follow after the unknown _ .

Many corners and numerous strangers later, he found himself standing upon the edge of an unfamiliar forest. He could not remember if such forest truly existed amidst Tokyo’s ocean of iron and steel, but the yearning was too strong; so was his curiosity. The butterfly continued to ride along the quiet summer wind, slowly leading him towards the forest.

The path felt endless. As he trailed the butterfly, he noticed little things about the forest; like how silent, or how empty it was sans for the hundreds of thousands of trees that filled the land with earth’s color. Flowers that bloomed within it possessed such enchanting beauty that he had to hold back the urge to stop and admire them, or even capture them in his camera—the flowers whose forms and names he did not recognize.

Blue butterflies fluttered about. The song of the cicadas has ceased to nothing more than leftover echoes in his mind, now distant and mute. Amidst the forest, with leaves as green as emerald casting the land below a lovely dark shade, he saw her:

An Alice of blue dress, blue as the sky, whose head hung low and whose face buried beneath delicate hands. Her hair, reaching the hem of her dress, was of cascading pale blond. Under a tree she sat defeated, as if she has been lost forever in the forest.

Logic has left him since the moment he stepped into the forest. It wouldn’t be weird, he reasoned, if he were to find things that normally shouldn’t exist. Where has summer gone to, or was this a neverending summer after all? Which is real, and which is a mere dream? He stopped for a while to consider the [reality] that he has phased into. It didn’t take him long. He, after all, has always been the curious kind.

He neared her as quietly as possible, though ultimately the sound of his footsteps unsettled the Alice. The irises that rose to meet his was that of the sky—no, even paler. While traces of tears were visible on her small visage, what was reflected by her eyes was not fear; only surprise.

He was oddly calm. Despite everything, he did not think strangely of this occurrence, nor of the supposedly nonexistent shimmering blue butterflies or the obscure emerald forest or the petite Alice lost amidst it all. He crouched down beside her, letting her see him more clearly.

“You are a person,” the Alice’s soft voice broke the silence.

_ Interesting choice of words _ , he thought to himself.  _ It was as if she was expecting to see something else. _

“I am,” he replied. “What are you doing here in the middle of the forest? Are you lost?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I wasn’t lost before,” she finally answered, “but now I am.”

“How so?”

“The shadows crept upon me again,” she replied, “And suddenly I lost my way home.”

“Shadows? Which shadows?” He became alerted, quickly scanning his surroundings.

Shaking her head, she spoke, with a quivering voice, “Not the ones that can touch you. They’re inside.” She raised a pair of trembling hands. “And I can’t stop shaking.”

He took them, took her hands without a long thought. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “If those shadows are after you, I’ll fend them off.”

She didn’t reply, and for minutes only the faint sound of their quiet breathing could be heard. The forest was completely silent, as if everything in it except for them was asleep. Gradually, ever so slightly, the trembling ceased—

“You are kind, even though I’m a stranger.”

“I don’t have to know someone to help them,” he said. “All I know is that you are lost, and you need help.”

—until it came to a full stop. The Alice inhaled slowly as she closed her eyes, opening them only when she released her breath again. Her eyes now reflected an undisturbed soul, calm as the sky.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “I feel calmer now.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiled at her. “Come, let’s get out of here.” Standing, he offered his hand to her. She looked at him for a while, but eventually took his hand and stood. “Speaking of which, what are you doing here alone?” he asked, curious of her reason.

“I was going to meet my friends, but the mean ones gathered around me and started playing tricks on me. It made me anxious,” she said forlornly. “And I forgot to bring my medication. Without them, I cannot control myself when panic attacks occur. My mother will be worried…”

If he were to be honest, he could neither make out nor understand her explanation. None of it connected or made sense (then again, what ever does?); regardless, he nodded meaningfully in an attempt to further calm her down. He patted the little girl’s head and said,

“You will be okay. I’m here with you.” Scanning his surroundings again, common sense slowly returned to him. “Do you know a way out?”

“Follow the blue butterfly,” she said. “They always know which path to take, as long as the heart is brave.” And soon after, the shimmering butterflies around them began to move towards an obscure distance. The Alice tugged his hand. “Wait, please. I need to leave something for my friends.”

He didn’t notice she had with her a small bag until she procured something from it: a tiny drawstring pouch that exuded a sweet smell. She left it under the tree, on the spot where she had cried moments ago, before turning to him.

“Let’s go. This forest tends to be mischievous to those who are unfamiliar with it.”

“Is that for your friend?” he asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. “Do they… live here?”

The Alice replied, “I have never known them to be elsewhere but here, under the safe harbor of nature.” She approached him and continued, “The butterflies are leaving. We should follow them now.”

He watched her strode past him, following the butterflies’ trail. He was about to follow her when, during the very last moment, curiosity tugged at him for one last time. One final look, one final question, and one final wondering—they coalesced.

Shimmering, fluttering, frolicking, merry and lively and magical,  _ impossible _ , wings after wings gathered as faint innocent laughters echoed. Gathered, they were, in the spot where Alice had left her little ‘gift’, beings unlike anything he had ever seen— _ fairies _ of various sizes and forms and laughter; phantasmagoria upon the now sound-filled forest that suddenly burst with life. [Reality] became a hazy concept. Here in this place, in this land, dream is reality and reality is a dream. Shimmering butterflies rested upon tree barks, flowers bloomed open, merry all over, sunray poured ceaselessly through the gaps between the leaves, falling, falling… 

_ Who… am I again? _

A hand pulled him away, snapping him from the haze. He held onto it dearly, as if letting go would mean letting go of everything he knew, and the unknown suddenly felt like a terrifying concept. Half-running, they trailed after the butterflies, the boy who was almost lost and the Alice that was found. They ran and ran and ran, leaving [that reality] behind, into theirs. When they saw a bright light, when they finally reached the edge of the forest and saw the traces of summer again, everything became clear once more. Everything became familiar once more.

Cicadas’ song invaded his ears, echoing summer’s embrace that had been left forgotten. Sunlight enveloped him in its heat, giving him a comfortable sense of familiarity. He stared at his hand, at the hand that held Alice’s.

He was back.

“Are you okay?” asked a concerned voice. He looked frontward to find the Alice’s concerned expression. “You, you were almost…” She reached out to him with a handkerchief in hand, wiping it on his temple. It was only then that he noticed the cold sweat that has drenched his body.

“It’s strange,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know who I was.”

“Do you, now?”

He nodded. “I do.”

“Then you’re back.”

“We’re back,” he said, though it was more of a reassurance for himself.

The Alice reached into her bag once more and procured something from it. Taking his hand, she put two pieces of chocolates on his palm, wrapped lovingly in a small transparent wrapping.

“This is for you. Chocolate helps calm the heart.”

He stared at the chocolates for a while, as if trying to ascertain whether they were real. Whether everything was real. “What is your name?” he asked.

“I am Shimotsuki Ailís,” she replied as she bowed. “And you are…”

“I’m Fuji Shuusuke.” Despite his heartbeat’s erratic pulse and unfocused mind, he managed a smile at her. “Tell me, Ailís-chan, what… was that? Was everything we saw real? Or was it a dream?”

Her clear blue irises gazed back at him. “Perhaps, everything is.” She pointed upwards, to the clear blue sky that encased them and everything in their little world. He looked above—

—and saw a silver waxing moon, lonely and breathtaking, suspended by the vast azure.

“But it will be okay,” the Alice's voice said. “It’s still dreaming, and I don’t think it will ever wake up from its dream.”

He forgot for how long he was fixated upon the sight, at the beautiful midday moon that was frozen in an eternal slumber. It made him wonder if they had truly escaped the mysterious forest, or if she was right—that everything is a dream. A solitary moon’s dream.

One that they might never wake up from.

“Young man?”

A voice pulled him back to reality. Averting his gaze from the moon back to his surroundings, he found himself standing alone. Alice was nowhere to be found; there were only him and a middle-aged man that approached him from a distance with a concerned expression.

“Are you alright, young man? You were staring blankly at the sky.”

“—ah,” he was confused at first, but quickly gathered himself. “Ah, yes. I was just wondering how clear the weather is.”

“Be careful! As young as you are, summer’s heat can be harsh. I’ve seen people fall victim to heat stroke here and there.”

Giving the man a reassuring smile, he replied, “Thank you for your concern. I will be careful.”

The man nodded and left.

True, the heat of midday was especially unforgiving during summer. Droplets of sweat descended from the sides of his visage, some falling from the tips of his hair towards the ground below. Even his shirt was now drenched. His camera and backpack, long forgotten, hung idly from his neck and shoulder. He took a breath and beheld the now moonless sky. Bright, everything was, enveloped by the sun.

He didn’t need to turn back to acknowledge that the forest behind him was gone. He knew well that the place could only be that of a small playground with seesaw, slide, swingset, and sandbox. Naturally he would know; after all, he passed by this area from and to his school almost everyday. There was simply no more mysterious forest to be lost in. No more midday moon to be entranced at.

No more dreams to ascertain.

However, held in his hand was a piece of it; a fragment of the dream, and perhaps even a ticket to return to it. He looked at the wrapped chocolates with a bemused smile, remembering fondly the little Alice of sky blue dress and cascading blond locks.

“Ailís…” he mumbled. “Alice-chan.”

The Midday Moon Alice.

The summer of July 2007 was encased by a bright, blue sky. Cicada’s song, loud and endless, filled corners of the city with such fervor that the season felt eternal. Even the restless Tokyo bowed down under the unbearably scorching sun as its residents frantically searched for ways to escape the heat. It was in this season that his heart had ventured into the unknown, beholding mirage unfolding before him as a miraculous, though fleeting, encounter.

And it was in this very season that he found and be found, under the gentle watch of the dreaming midday moon.

_ Curiouser and curiouser. _


End file.
